


There Goes The Neighborhood

by heyjupiter



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Wolverine (Movies), X-Men (Movies)
Genre: Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-30
Updated: 2015-05-30
Packaged: 2018-04-01 22:28:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4036849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heyjupiter/pseuds/heyjupiter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Jean's death, Logan just wants to be left alone in his Canadian sadness cave, but other stray superheroes keep interrupting his manful moping.</p>
            </blockquote>





	There Goes The Neighborhood

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this Tumblr post](http://twentyghosts.tumblr.com/post/118114461326/yesterday-i-had-a-long-bus-ride-during-which-i). Thanks to cygnaut for the encouraging banter & beta read! 
> 
> This is set before The Wolverine and after Avengers Age of Ultron. I won't worry too much about the timelines meeting up if you won't ;) 
> 
> (Also if you have never seen the movie The Wolverine but are generally familiar with the character Wolverine, you're probably fine to read this. All you need to know is that at the beginning of it Wolverine is literally living by himself in a cave.)

Logan jolted awake. Another night, another haunting dream. Even his admittedly grim reality was nothing compared to the horror of his dreams. He stretched and stood up. He'd have to leave his cave for food. He'd follow the same routine he had since he'd settled in here a few weeks ago--track a small prey animal, kill it with his claws, and cook it over a campfire. 

He stepped outside and sniffed the air. His keen senses revealed a few rabbits and a deer in the vicinity, and he set off for one of the rabbits. He moved stealthily through the woods as he approached. He was a natural killer, but the rabbit had the advantage of speed, so this wasn't a foregone conclusion. Just when he was about to go in for the kill, he stepped on a twig. The rabbit bolted away. 

Logan nodded to himself. He didn't really mind. He enjoyed the hunt, and it wasn't as if he had much else to do to pass the time. He took a deep breath, sniffing out his next prey. He frowned and focused harder on his senses. He'd been known to be mistaken… but, no, he definitely smelled a human being. It was hard to believe he'd missed it before, and almost as hard to believe there'd be another human out in the woods this far. He didn't smell blood, but he figured he'd better investigate. He set off towards the smell, a few miles upwind of his cave. (It wasn't really _his_ cave, of course. Not in a legal sense. But no one else had been using it, and it seemed as good a place as any for Logan to store his whiskey.)

As he got closer to the scent he was tracking, he noticed the foliage was trampled as if something big had been through. A bear, maybe, but an angry one. He'd think wounded, but there was no trace of blood. Maybe a bear who disturbed a beehive? The prints didn't look quite right for that, either. 

He found the source of the smell--a barefoot white guy in purple shorts was asleep in the entrance of another small cave. Logan looked around and didn't see any camping supplies. He crouched down and shook the guy. "Hey, buddy, you okay?" he asked. His voice sounded hoarse and strange to his own ears. Logan rarely spoke these days, except in his nightmares.

The guy sat straight up and looked around wildly. "Did I hurt anyone?" he asked urgently.

"Did _you_..." Logan repeated. He trailed off and looked at the guy again. He was still unarmed and underdressed. He didn't look like the idiot hunters who passed through here occasionally with all their stupid gear and weapons. "I doubt it. Nobody else around here to hurt. You okay?"

"Fine, fine," the guy replied, with a dismissive hand gesture.

"Really? You know where you are?"

"Canada, probably?"

"Canada," Logan agreed. "How'd you get here?"

"I walked. Well, I swam, and then I walked."

Logan peered more closely at the guy, looking for signs of head trauma. "Look, this ain't my business, but… I think I should maybe take you to a hospital."

The guy shook his head vehemently. "No. No hospital. I'm fine."

Logan, of all people, could relate to hospital aversion. And the guy did actually seem fine--no wounds, no fever. He was clean-shaven, so either he hadn't been out here long or he'd hidden a razor somewhere. "Well… here, take my jacket," he said, handing it over.

The guy smiled and shook his head. "Thank you, but no."

"You sure? It gets cold here at night," Logan cautioned. As he said it, he wondered why he'd begun feeling protective of this stranger. He supposed there was something about his face; he wasn't young, but he seemed so obviously sad and vulnerable. The near-nudity may have had something to do with the vulnerability as well.

"Trust me, I'll just end up ruining it," the guy said. "I… I appreciate your concern. But I'll be fine. Really."

Logan shrugged and took his jacket back. "Whatever you say. Good luck?"

The guy smiled. "Thanks. Same to you."

Logan nodded and went back out to catch his breakfast. It occurred to him that perhaps this guy was here to spy on Logan. That seemed unlikely, though, given his state of disarray. Seemed more like he was running away from something, rather than toward it. Still, maybe he should call one of his contacts and ask around. Maybe he would if the guy was still around and alive next week, when Logan was planning to go into town for more supplies. Unless he drank everything ahead of schedule.

* * *

Bruce stretched and bent forward into downward dog. Sleeping on the cave floor was hell on his back, although it was slightly better since he'd acquired a sleeping bag. (He'd committed to memory the names and addresses of the places he'd stolen from and pledged to pay them back whenever he returned to civilization.)

He had access to a network of safe houses that were all much more comfortable than this. The problem was, SHIELD (or whatever was left of it) or Natasha or Tony or all of them certainly knew about them, even the ones he'd set up in his early days on the run. He figured someone would find him eventually, but he was hoping for a little time on his own. Just to get his head straight. Natasha had wanted too much from him, too quickly. And then she'd forced him into becoming the Other Guy, and so he'd left and ended up here, after climbing out of the ocean and letting the Other Guy run as far as he could.

Bruce knew he couldn't stay there forever. For starters, when it got too cold, the Other Guy would come out to keep him from freezing to death. But he'd probably have to move on well before winter came, because Bruce needed to do _something_ productive to stay sane. Something like practicing medicine, doing scientific research or just trying his best to keep Tony Stark from ending the world. Meditating in a cave wasn't going to cut it in the long run. But for the next week or so, it would suit him fine, despite (or because of) the physical discomfort. It was dry inside, and close to a creek full of clear, cold water. 

Bruce finished his morning set of sun salutations and ventured out into the woods. He'd gotten some canned goods and dried fruit, but he also liked to forage for wild plants. He'd studied up on edible flora when he first went on the run. It gave him something to do; there was a meditative quality to studying each plant and comparing it to his memories. Of course, even if he ate something toxic by mistake, the Other Guy would just spit it out.

He spent the morning picking wild elderberries; he thought, briefly, of Tony's intense hatred of Monty Python, and gently sent that thought floating off into the sky. It was easier for him to not think of Betty's love for British comedy; he had much more practice not thinking of her. 

He wondered what Natasha thought. He knew a lot about Natasha, about how she fought, how she flirted, how she got things done. But he didn't know what kinds of movies she liked. He thought about that, like tracing the edge of a bruise to see how much it still hurt. He thought about her intermittently, taking mental breaks to focus on his breathing and his berries. By the time he had a full container, he'd eased his way into the conclusion that Natasha probably would like Monty Python. She had a definite goofy side. 

Bruce shook his head once, as if to clear it, and returned to his cave. He ate some berries and passed the rest of the afternoon in meditation. The problem with being off the grid was that it was very boring. He decided to take a walk before it got dark. He walked west, looking into the sun. He walked until he smelled smoke, and was surprised to see a small fire at the entrance of another small cave. He approached cautiously, and a gruff voice called out, "Huh. I see you found your shirt."

"What? Oh, uh… yeah," Bruce said. He'd squinted and recognized the man who'd found him when he'd first woken up here. He had long, shaggy hair and a thick beard. Bruce had the sense he'd been living out here for awhile. Self-consciously, Bruce ran a hand through his own hair, wondering what it looked like now. It was often disheveled in the best of times.

The man said, "You know, this ain't exactly a campground."

"No," Bruce agreed.

"So, who sent you?" the man asked, a definite edge to his voice.

"I'm sorry?"

"Who. Sent. You. Here."

"No one?"

"You're telling me that out of all the mountains in all of North America, you just happened to turn up a few miles from my own little spot in the middle of nowhere?" 

The man stared Bruce down, and if Bruce didn't have the ability to transform into an invincible monster, he would have felt pretty intimidated. He still felt a little intimidated, but he said, "I guess it is kind of strange, but… really. No one sent me. I just… went as far as I could go, and I guess I ended up here." Privately, he wondered if maybe the Other Guy had somehow smelled or sensed this man before giving up. Maybe he'd been reluctant to leave puny Banner completely alone in the middle of nowhere, although Bruce wasn't sure how helpful this man would be.

The man gave Bruce one last look, then shrugged and grunted, apparently convinced. Bruce relaxed slightly. He hadn't wanted a fight. 

"Well. You hungry? I got a rabbit," the man said, nodding toward the spit over his fire.

"Oh. Uh. No thanks," Bruce said. He always felt awkward explaining his vegetarianism, as if he were asking for special treatment.

The man shrugged again. "Suit yourself." 

Bruce hovered around the periphery of the man's campfire. He hadn't quite been invited to stay, only to share the food he didn't want, but he wasn't yet ready to give up this scant bit of companionship. "I'm Bruce," he said.

"Logan," the man replied. He pulled his rabbit off the fire and dumped it onto a tin plate. He didn't let it cool before ripping into it with his fingers. Bruce tried not to stare, but Logan seemed completely unself-conscious.

Bruce cleared his throat and asked, "So, Logan… have you been out here for… awhile?"

Logan licked his fingers and said, "Yeah. You could say that. You planning to stick around for awhile?"

Bruce shrugged. "A little while longer, I guess."

"You want a drink?"

Bruce hesitated. He usually avoided alcohol, for fear that lowered inhibitions would bring out the Other Guy. But he'd gotten much better at controlling his transformations, and he found that he wasn't eager to go back to his empty cave just yet. "All right," he said. "Thanks."

Logan said, "Don't thank me just yet." He retreated into his cave and came back out with a bottle of whiskey. He offered it to Bruce.

Bruce wasn't a connoisseur, but he knew this was very cheap liquor. He took a small sip. It burned all the way down. He passed the bottle back and sat down cross-legged in front of the fire.

* * *

Logan stared into the fire, with occasional sidelong glances at Bruce, generally accompanied by a pass of the bottle of whiskey. At least Bruce didn't seem to drink much, Logan thought, taking another deep pull from the bottle. It wasn't like him to share his liquor, but Bruce had just seemed so pathetic.

Logan was convinced that the other man wasn't there to spy on Logan, but he couldn't quite figure out why he _was_ there. 

Logan had killed the woman he loved. No matter that she'd asked it of him; that she hadn't really been herself. He'd stabbed her, felt her die. And he needed to be away from children--from civilization--until he could stop reliving it. He wondered if Bruce had a similar story. He _seemed_ like a sort of scrawny, worn-down guy. But, Logan knew, appearances could be deceiving.

Bruce broke their long silence by saying, "Do you think... there are things that are unforgivable?"

"Yeah," Logan replied. Bruce didn't sound drunk exactly, but there was a slight haziness to his words that hadn't been there befor. Logan figured the guy must have a pretty low alcohol tolerance. He wondered if this was leading up to some kind of drunken confession time. Logan would appreciate having his curiosity satisfied, but he hoped Bruce wouldn't puke near his cave. The smell would linger.

"I tried so hard," Bruce said quietly. "I tried so hard to do everything right."

Logan passed him the bottle. "Sometimes tryin' ain't enough."

Bruce took the bottle and held it gently. "But what else is there?"

"This, I guess," Logan said.

Bruce drank. After another long silence, he said, "I tried so hard to not be a monster. But it turns out all anybody wanted from me was the monster."

Logan looked at Bruce sharply. "Yeah? What's a guy like you know about being a monster?"

"More than I ever wanted to know."

Something stirred in Logan's memories. He'd read up on all of the X-Men's files about other superhumans. About the Avengers. About the speculated alter ego of the Hulk. Finally, he had an explanation for Bruce's presence that made at least a small amount of sense. "Huh," he said. "Bruce Banner?"

Next to him, Bruce froze. 

Logan said, "I thought you'd be bigger."

Bruce laughed. "Sometimes I am," he said dryly.

"Last I checked, you were an Avenger. Not a monster."

"Who says I can't be both?"

Logan grunted. 

Bruce said, "Look… how long have you been out here?"

"I dunno exactly," Logan said, stroking his beard. 

"Have you heard anything about what happened in Wakanda a few weeks ago?"

"Let's assume I haven't," Logan said. He did sometimes try to listen to the news on his shitty radio, but coverage of world affairs was spotty.

"Well. You're probably about the only person on earth who hasn't."

Logan nodded. "Maybe so. But I also saw first-hand what you did in New York, with the Chitauri. You saved a lot of lives. Hey, gimme the bottle back. I'm gonna need more whiskey if I have to give you a pep talk."

Bruce passed the bottle back but said, "I don't need a pep talk."

"You sure about that? You're living in a cave in the middle of Canada."

Bruce cleared his throat. Logan said, "Point taken."

Bruce said, "I'll figure something out. I just… I just wanted a little time."

"By my count, you've been out here ten days. That's enough time for most people."

"I take it you're not most people?"

"Nah. I'm not." Bruce didn't pry, which made Logan like him more. So he asked, "You know the X-Men?"

Bruce replied, "Yeah. Kinda. I mean, I didn't pay that much attention to… Oh. Are you saying you're an X-Man?" 

Logan laughed. "Yeah. Or I was."

Bruce said, "This superhero thing isn't all it's cracked up to be, huh."

"It has its moments," Logan said. "But then there's everything else."

"Yeah," Bruce said. "Hey, thanks for the drink, I should probably… get going."

"You sure?" Logan asked. "It's dark out now, and it's not the most even terrain. You could… just stay here. If you want." As soon as he said it, he wondered if it was the best idea. Logan tended to have very active nightmares, and Bruce turned into the Hulk when he was threatened. 

Next to him, Bruce shifted uncomfortably. "Thanks, but… I shouldn't. Anyway, if I fall off a mountain, I'll just land as the Other Guy. I'll be okay," he said glumly.

Logan didn't press it, but he said, "I'll walk back with you, then. I have heightened senses. Maybe keep you from falling in the first place."

"Yeah, okay. Thanks." 

Logan gave Bruce a small flashlight, but Logan didn't need it. Bruce's trail was easy to track, and he led the other man back to the cave he'd claimed with ease. But he stopped a few hundred yards short of the entrance. "Someone else is here," he said.

* * *

Bruce focused on his breath, counting the seconds in and out. He'd known people were looking for him, and that they'd eventually find him. He'd hoped it wouldn't be so soon, but he shouldn't be surprised. Of course SHIELD would make it a priority to bring in the Hulk. 

He wondered if it would be Natasha waiting for him. He wasn't sure if he hoped it was.

He walked toward the cave with his hands up and said, "All right. You found me. I'd prefer it if--"

Bruce trailed short when a man with long unruly hair and a silver arm emerged from the entrance of the cave. He had a knife in each hand.

"Whoa," Bruce said. "Seriously, I think we'd all prefer to do this the easy way." Next to him, he heard a weird _snikt_ sound. He turned and saw that Logan now had shiny silver claws protruding from his hands. Bruce hadn't paid that much attention to other superheroes, but he knew Wolverine would be a good one to have on your side in a fight. Not that he was worried about _losing_ a fight, but he would really prefer to avoid one.

Logan said, "Jeeze, buddy, they sent the Winter Soldier after you?" He sounded impressed.

"The…" Bruce said, and looked again at the guy with the silver arm. If he ever got back to civilization, he was going to have to spend slightly less time in the lab and slightly more time paying attention to the geopolitical landscape for superheroes. He hadn't even known about Wakanda until he'd been tricked into destroying half of it. It was just that he was so much more interested in theoretical physics than superhero team lineups, but it seemed that it would actually be useful knowledge for him.

"That's the Winter Soldier?" he asked.

"You know any other guys with silver arms?" Logan asked.

The Winter Soldier still said nothing. He was watching them both curiously, his knives still gripped casually.

Bruce said, "Hey, you know, Steve Rogers is looking for you. Captain America."

"I know," the Soldier said.

"Oh. Well… Cap's not here. I think he's in New York," Bruce said helpfully.

"I know."

"Okay, so what do you want with us?" Logan asked.

The Winter Soldier laughed humorlessly. "Would you believe I just wanted some peace and quiet?"

"Yeah, I would, actually," Bruce said.

Logan shook his head. "This neighborhood is going downhill," he muttered.

"Gentrifiers ruin everything," Bruce agreed. Then he looked at the Winter Soldier and said, softly, "You know--it's not my business, but I don't think Steve was looking for you to bring you in. I think he was looking for you as--as a friend."

"I know," the Winter Soldier said. He was starting to get a little repetitive.

Bruce said, "Okay. Well, I would feel a lot better if you could put those knives down?"

The Winter Soldier looked down at the knives as if he were surprised to see them, then lowered his arms to his sides.

Logan said, "I should've brought the whiskey with me."

The Winter Soldier looked up at Logan then. "Whiskey?" he asked. He sounded… not quite excited, but less emotionless.

"What the hell? It's not like any of us has anywhere to be tomorrow morning," Logan said. He waved his hand vaguely. "It's back a few miles from here."

The Winter Soldier approached them. Logan asked Bruce, "You coming too?"

"Yeah. I guess I am," Bruce said.

* * *

Logan had come to Canada because he couldn't bear to be around others while he grieved, so he wasn't sure how he'd ended up sharing his campfire and his booze with the Hulk and the Winter Soldier. The thing was, he didn't really mind it.

Back at Xavier's--he supposed it would still be called that, even without Xavier--everyone had been grieving the same people, but only Logan was responsible for Jean's death. Bruce and Bucky were grieving different things, but the three of them were all grieving things they'd done. 

None of them bothered to point out to the others that the things they'd done weren't, strictly speaking, their fault. Bruce had been mind controlled by the Scarlet Witch; Bucky had been brainwashed by Hydra; Logan had done what Jean had asked him to do, after Charles had failed to help her understand her powers. But in the dark, it didn't matter _why_ they'd done the things they'd done. It just mattered that they'd done them.

"So, Bucky, how long are you planning to stay out here?" Logan asked. They'd finished off the original bottle of whiskey and were well into Logan's reserve supply. He was definitely going to have to go back into town sooner than he'd originally planned.

Bucky shrugged. "Does it matter?"

"It's just getting a little crowded out here, is all," Logan said.

"We might have to incorporate. Get our own post office," Bruce said, with a giggle. Logan was pretty sure he was drunk.

"Seems like there's enough space to go around," Bucky said.

"You can't stay in my cave, though," Bruce said. "You have to find your own cave. I have squatter's rights."

"All right," Bucky said.

"We can be neighbors, though. We could have neighborhood potlucks," Bruce said.

"I think we're having one now," Logan replied.

They all froze when they heard something approaching them. All of them turned to look, but saw nothing.

Logan was the first to realize, "It's just raccoons."

"I thought it might be…" Bruce said, and trailed off.

Logan said, "Look, the difference between me and the two of you is, people are looking for you guys. People who give a shit about you. Nobody's looking for me. You might think about going back to those people, before it's too late. Before they stop looking."

Bucky said, "I am not who Steve is looking for. Not anymore."

Bruce shrugged. "He might not be who you remember, either."

Bucky shook his head. "I've seen the news. He's still Steve." In the flickering firelight, Logan saw a faint smile on Bucky's lips. Bucky added, "But Bruce, from what I've read, you're about the only person who can keep Tony Stark in check. You should go back to New York."

Bruce laughed. "You must be thinking of Pepper. I clearly cannot be trusted in that capacity."

"You should both go back and stop drinking all of my booze," Logan said.

"I don't really drink," Bruce said.

"Coulda fooled me," Logan said.

Bruce ran a hand through his hair and said, "Yeah. Maybe you're right. I just…"

"Why don't you go back to New York together?" Logan said.

Bruce and Bucky both crossed their arms and looked at the ground. Logan pressed on, "Just… listen. Everyone I ever cared about is dead. If the same ain't true for you… you should take advantage of that while you can." He took a pull of whiskey and added, "Or, y'know, do whatever you want."

"Good talk," Bucky said. 

"Look at that sunrise," Bruce said.

"It's nice," Bucky agreed. 

"They happen pretty much every day," Logan said. 

"Science," Bruce said. Then he blinked. "I should go."

"'s what I've been saying," Logan agreed.

"No, I mean… I should get some sleep," Bruce said.

"Shouldn't be a problem to fit that into your schedule," Bucky said.

"Thanks for the whiskey, I think," Bruce said, rubbing his forehead.

"You know what they say. What doesn't kill you makes you stronger," Logan replied.

Bruce laughed. "They do say that, don't they?" He was still laughing as he walked back toward his cave.

The next morning, Logan found no trace of Bruce or Bucky, but when he came back from catching his breakfast, there was a case of slightly-nicer-than-he-was-used-to whiskey outside of his cave. There was no note, but Logan got the message.


End file.
